Spaghetti western
by MoniqueD
Summary: A man from Kate's past makes an unwelcome appearance at the Haunt and forces Rick to make a choice that stuns everyone. Kate and Alexis get caught in the middle of the trouble and form an alliance to sort out the mess and guard the homestead. Emotions come alive and lives are changed with the aftermath. This is Castle and Beckett romance with a Wild West flare. Enjoy!
1. Prologue - The Haunt

Prologue

The Haunt, New York City

The bartender flashed his devil-may-care smile at the two women sitting at his bar, and they blushed furiously under their dainty travel hats. They had that dazed but happy look so many people get after a long journey into the big city. They were quiet now, but give them a day and they'd have no problem finding adventure in this town. The friendly bartender served up two glasses of water for the woman and tipped his hat. They giggled, and just as he was about to start telling some tall tales, his attention was diverted to a commotion at the entrance. Damn, sure enough, he recognized the familiar face of trouble walking through the door.

Spurs jangled and boots clunked as a trio of men lumbered across the wood plank floor and made themselves at home at the far end of the bar. Their leader pulled out a wad of cash and leered at the women before wielding an unfriendly gaze on the bartender.

"Well well, the great Richard Castle is tending his own bar tonight. I guess now we have a good reason to pick a fight." He wiped his forehead with a dirty hand. "Me and my boys been riding all day and we're thirsty."

"You came to the right place, Sheriff; did you lead another posse?"

"You bet. We tracked and shot ourselves a badass outlaw."

"Sure is nice to know that you're out there protecting us, Tom."

"Shut up and pour."

Sheriff Tom's voice was rough as sandpaper and his eyes as mean as a snake's. His sidekicks fidgeted, so Castle hastily filled three glasses with his best beer and plunked them down on the bar. "There's an empty table in back; Rosie will serve you and your men whatever you want."

"Only thing I want is that delicious little Katie. Where is she?"

"I'll ask you to keep a civil tongue."

"Go to hell." Tom pushed up his hat and slapped the back of the man closest to him. "Come on boys, let's see what plump Rosie's got for us." He stopped beside one of the young women and sniffed her hair. "Very nice. You girls come back and join us if you get bored with this know-it-all. We're out for a good time tonight."

Rosie gamely hefted a beer-laden serving tray and followed the three men into the rear of the saloon. Damn it all, Tom's obsession with Kate was troubling, and Castle wondered if there was more to that ex-couple than met the eye. He gazed around the bar and nodded in approval. Clean, neat, and ready for more off-duty lawmen. No doubt a fist fight or two would liven up the place and attract even more business. He studied the two women still sitting at the bar and decided he didn't want them to fall victim to Demming and his gang. He'd have to keep them busy until they decided to call it a night. "Well now, surely a couple of sophisticated young ladies will want to drink something tastier than tap water." He swept his arm to showcase the colourful display of bottles behind him. "You can call me Ricky." He smiled and they giggled. "Do you trust tricky Ricky to mix you something interesting?" The bright-eyed women glanced at each other and nodded in unison. Tricky Ricky Castle reached up for a bottle. He suspected it was going to be a long night.


	2. A fist full of honour

Manhattan, New York City

Alexis Castle was caught in a labyrinth of terror with no end and no beginning. She ran for her life, twisting and turning through the maze, but the faster she ran, the closer the thing came...gurgles of fiendish laughter filled her ears and the stench of rotten flesh made her gag…she tripped and cried out in pain…the monster was pulling at her arms….it was just too strong… "Get off! Leave me alone!"

"Alexis! It's me, Kate!"

Alexis opened her eyes and cried out in relief. "Oh, I'm so glad to see you!" She jumped up from the sofa and threw her arms around Kate's shoulders. "A stinky zombie was after me, it was horrible." Sobs escaped her throat, but she didn't care, because Kate was here, and Kate was strong. "It's dad, I don't know what to do."

"Shhh, it's ok."

"You have a key?"

"Yes. I got worried when you didn't answer the door."

Alexis sniffled and felt her lip quivering, but managed to steady herself with a deep breath. "Dad spoke your name just before he passed out, that's why I called you. He looks terrible, Kate, please help." Alexis clamped her arms around the detective just as the tears began to flow.

It was contagious. Kate Beckett cried right along with Alexis, her own frustrations draining away with each rolling tear. Alexis was clinging like a child to a mother, but Kate did not disengage the embrace. Instead, she held on tight, closed her eyes and relived the details: urgent phone calls abruptly transformed her quiet Saturday night into an emotional roller coaster ride. Castle was a hero, Ryan said. Castle had true grit, Esposito solemnly informed her. True grit? Hero? What was the deal here, and why were they talking about Castle as though he was a modern-day John Wayne? What kind of trouble could her mystery writer get into tending bar at the Haunt on a Saturday night? Her police friends were only too happy to spill the shocking news, and after a dozen revealing phone calls, Kate was bent over the toilet retching out her misery. Now here she was in his home, trying to grasp the implications of his actions while she hugged his daughter, who was mere inches from a breakdown. Reluctantly, Kate pulled away and wiped at her wet cheeks. Alexis did the same, looking self-conscious and miserable.

"It's time."

They walked hand in hand to the dark bedroom. Inside, Alexis flipped on the bedside light and Kate gasped in horror. The orange glow of the small lamp exposed the ugly truth, and it was worse than she had imagined.

"What should we do?"

"Just give me a minute, Alexis." Kate pulled up the sheet and leaned in for a cursory examination, but puffed out a gasp of surprise when Rick's naked torso filled her vision. Despite the dim light, fist-sized discolorations on his rib cage were all too visible, as were jagged lacerations on his face, now partially hidden under a small ice pack. The skin of his right eye socket was already puffy and blue. For Alexis' sake, she managed to hold back the profanity that threatened to spew out of her mouth and mutely followed Alexis out to the kitchen. As she walked, Kate's anger quickly became laced with stabs of raw panic. What to do? Alexis was wide-eyed and fidgeting nervously, watching her every move.

"Is it bad, Kate? What do you think? Should we call 911? Should we take him to a hospital?"

Kate grasped the girl's shoulders gently, "Please try to relax; did the police visit?"

"No. Why won't you tell me what's going on?"

Kate sucked in a breath and picked her words carefully. "Look Alexis, I understand that you're frightened, but we need to be rational and calm." Calm, however, was nowhere to be found, as Kate's stomach churned with worry. "The whole story will come out soon enough, whether we like it or not." Kate paced the length of the kitchen, her gut heaving painfully with thoughts of the inevitable fallout that would soon cover them like a dirty blanket. "Your father didn't want to go to the hospital, so we'll honour his decision and help him get through the night."

"But what about the black eye? I put ice on it..."

"That was quick thinking; ice is good for the swelling." Kate felt better now that a plan was in the works, and even Alexis seemed to have settled down. "I've seen plenty of guys in fist-fights, and fortunately it's the ego that tends to suffer the most. That said, we really don't know the extent of your dad's injuries, so I'm going to watch carefully." Kate stopped pacing and smiled, hoping to lighten up the tension. "How about I take the first shift and you get some sleep?"

Alexis released a long sigh and slumped against the kitchen counter. "Sleep? I need to talk, not sleep."

Talk? Chit chat at 1:00 am? No surprise there, she was a Castle after all. She debated the wisdom of a late night heart-to-heart with the daughter of the man….oh hell. "We only have a few minutes." Kate sank into the soft sofa and immediately felt exhaustion trickle down inside her body like water seeping through sand. Alexis plopped herself down too, her mane of auburn hair bouncing like satin ribbons. No doubt that pretty face could stop a stable full of cowboys in their tracks. Kate envisioned a frantic Rick begging her to run background checks on all the love-struck young bucks lined up at the door. Maybe he'd make them compete in bull-riding, or calf-roping, and allow one of the poor contestants to get to level two. She let herself relax for the first time in hours, and reflexively touched Alexis' hair. "Look at you, growing up into such a beautiful young woman; I hope you'll take it slow with Ashley, you both have a lot of life to discover before you get too serious."

Alexis smiled back. "Dad says the same thing; he's probably worried that I'll elope and leave him alone with Gram."

"Go easy on him, he's a good father and only wants the best for you."

"I know. There are so many things I want to talk to you about Kate, but we never get enough time together."

Oh boy, not good. "What's on your mind that can't wait until morning?"

"You and dad are on my mind." Alexis absently gathered her hair into a thick rope while she spoke. "Why aren't the two of you together? You must know by now that dad's crazy about you."

"Wow, I'm not comfortable discussing this."

"But why not? He loves spending his days with you, and the word Goddess has come up more than a few times." Alexis giggled and hiccupped.

"Goddess? I bet I could work that to my advantage."

"Yeah, but on the downside, he's been raging about a dude he calls motorcycle boy, and how you are just using this guy because you have other issues you don't want to face. Who is he? Just dump him, Kate."

This was beyond belief, how could Rick divulge such personal stuff to his kid? Other issues? "Your father and I have a strange relationship, it's actually very…"

"Oh no you don't! No crap about it being complicated. Has he kissed you?"

_Wouldn't you love to know? _ Kate bit her lip and let out a sigh. Her most tight-lipped suspects wouldn't last five minutes in the interrogation room with this young woman. Alexis Castle, like her father, was a force to be reckoned with, and she hoped that young Ashley possessed nerves of steel. "This isn't Facebook and we're not having this conversation. You'll just have to trust us."

"But..."

She silenced Alexis with a hand on her arm. "Thanks for your insight, but right now I'm going to look after a soft-hearted cowboy and you're going to hit the hay. Got it, partner?" Kate rewarded the worried looking teen with one last tidbit, "I'll be in bed with your dad; I want to be close by if he wakes up in distress." _And out of there before he finds me. Or not? _

"Complicated, I see what you mean. Don't worry; I'll get you up early enough." Alexis stood up and stretched luxuriously, like a slinky ginger cat. "Do you have supplies? I have tons of lounge pants."

"Lounge pants and a T-shirt would be nice, thanks."

"Back in a flash."

Alexis glanced at her with a shy smile before turning to take the stairs two at a time, and she was back before Kate could finish massaging the kinks out of her neck. A colorful ball of clothing flew towards her and Kate snagged it out of the air.

"Is your grandmother away?"

"Yup, Gram's gone for the weekend, and that's probably a good thing." Alexis hugged her again. "Thank you for coming over, dad will be so happy. See you bright and early."

"Hey, give that zombie a kick in the ass for me." Kate called after her.

Kate sighed, flopped onto the sofa and closed her eyes. _Cowboy Rick will NOT be happy to see me, and early is a time of day I don't want to think about. _She had been dangerously tempted to pour out her heart to Alexis, and she could easily imagine how their conversation might have played out: _"Who is motorcycle boy? An amusement. Do you love my dad? Yes, oh yes. Why can't you tell him? I'm terrified of falling so deeply that I never touch the bottom. Dad is strong; he'll catch you, Kate. Yes, I know. Being in love is wonderful. Yes, it is. Trust him. With all my heart. Tell him you love him. I will. Kiss him. Can't wait. I'm glad we had this little talk, Kate. Me too, for sure." _

If only reality could be so deliciously simple. She was reluctant to relinquish her warm spot on the sofa, but the night was slipping away and Rick needed attention. She padded silently into his dark bedroom, and immediately felt her flesh tingle with the subtle vibrations dancing through the air. Kate closed her eyes as the sound of his breathing enveloped her in a silken net. She fumbled her way to the adjoining washroom and found a washcloth, which she soaked in cold water and placed over the worst of the cuts. He didn't move a muscle. The ice pack was warm and had fallen on the floor. "Thank you for being my hero, Castle," she whispered to the darkness. Kate changed into Alexis' clothing and slipped into the space beside him. Carefully, she moved in closer. Male body heat hit her head on, as did the smell of sweat and alcohol.

He should have gone to a hospital. He should have called her. He should have turned away when trouble reared its ugly head. Too many should-haves, not enough answers. Kate knew that the Haunt was a popular bar with many of the downtown officers, and Rick was always the one to socialize, even while working a shift behind the taps. If nothing else, this incident was the stuff of legend; it was another chapter in the colourful history of the Haunt. She reached out to gently touch Rick's warm and muscular shoulder. He had taken a beating for a reason, but all she had to go on was a wild story from a bunch of chatty cops. Guilt gnawed at her gut, but there was no point in worrying until after she heard the tale directly from cowboy Rick's shapely mouth. Tomorrow he would tell her the truth; there could be no secrets between them. Kate yawned sleepily in the warm cocoon, and struggled to keep the fluffy cloud of sleep from smothering her all too soon.


	3. Rounding up the chickens

Cleavage. It was Rosie's soft, ample bosom that had saved him from a face-plant on the hard floor. Richard Castle was in pain. Memory bubbles were popping in an endless chain inside his throbbing head, each bubble more horrid than the one before it. It had all happened so fast, and sure he had tried to fight back, but Richard Castle was a lover, not a fighter. The first punch to his ribs sucked the breath from this body, and the second one left him gasping in agony. An uppercut to the cheek followed, but it was the savage stomach punch that sent him sprawling into Rosie's arms. Try as she might, the brawny waitress couldn't hold his weight, and they both fell to the floor in a miserable heap. Castle shivered at the memory of Tom's hate-filled snake-eyes glaring down at him. Needles of cold water stabbed his face, and through the haze of pain he felt Rosie's gentle hand dabbing him dry, and heard her Irish brogue utter words of comfort. Merciful unconsciousness must have followed.

"What a bloody mess." Castle threw off the blanket in disgust, and sat up slowly while his spinning head found an anchor in space. A tantalizingly familiar fragrance wafted up from the bed, and he looked down, confused. _My nose must be playing tricks on me. _Castle stood up and swayed slightly; he was a bit woozy but the nausea had passed. He pulled on a pair of lounge pants and shrugged into his fluffy bathrobe. Baby steps carried him to the blinding white light of the bathroom where one look in the mirror had him whimpering in despair. A comb through his dirty hair resulted in zero improvement. He needed drugs - lots and lots of drugs, and maybe an appointment with a psychiatrist. A metallic clanging noise intercepted further negative thoughts. "Alexis? Are you there? Pumpkin? Sweetie?" His daughter appeared at his door and hurried forward to hug him. The pressure of her innocent arms had his gasping for breath, but the hug felt wonderful.

"Dad, I was so worried about you." She pulled away and examined him critically, "gosh, you might want to look in the mirror. Or not."

"Yes, indeed, I've already exchanged pleasantries with Frankenstein." He smiled and tasted blood from a cracked lip. "I'm hungry, is there any food left over?"

"Yes, but..." her hand moved to his chest, effectively blocking his path, "there's something you need to know, dad."

"What is it?" He pushed past her and proceeded towards the kitchen, his trajectory decidedly wobbly.

"Dad, stop…."

A moment later, Castle skidded to a halt and let out an unmanly shriek. He promptly pivoted on his foot and did a speedy U-turn back to Alexis, who steadied him as he doubled over in pain.

"Dad, take it easy, are you okay?"

"No! What is she doing here?" he gasped, "Call 911 now because I'm going to need medical attention very soon."

"Hey Rick, are you always so melodramatic when you wake up?"

Still leaning on his daughter, Castle cast a suspicious eye on the woman standing in his kitchen, the very same woman at the heart of his troubles. "Normally they call me Mr. Sunshine. Why are you here, Kate?"

"I looked after you last night."

Castle regarded her intently. "Really? I wish I could remember."

"You look like hell."

"Thanks." Castle noticed that Kate bore a striking resemblance to an iron chef, brandishing a frying pan in one hand and an empty plate in the other. Yup, a beautiful, dangerous iron chef with a frying as the perfect weapon.

"You must be hungry, Castle; come and sit down before you fall over." She smiled. "I've got eggs ready to go, it won't take a minute."

Castle's stomach contracted and rumbled at this overwhelming priority. Kate was busy at the stove, and despite his misgivings, he approached the table warily and sat down. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Alexis inching stealthily towards the door. "Young lady, where are you going?"

His daughter froze in mid-step and turned towards him. "Kate, uh, Detective Beckett, has all the details."

"I repeat: where are you going?"

"Ashley."

Without another word, Alexis disappeared through the door, and suddenly he was very much alone with Kate. The irony was there somewhere, but his brain was too fuzzy to bother hunting for it. Instead, he attacked the offered plate of scrambled eggs, and spoke between mouthfuls. "The two of you seem to be getting along."

"Alexis is a brave young woman. She had a fright last night."

"Yeah, well," he hesitated and chewed, "thank you for coming over." Castle glanced up just in time to see Kate frowning, but he couldn't begin to guess if it was in sympathy or anger. What did it matter? He managed to get a few more delicious forkfuls past his lips before Kate opened her mouth to speak the words he was dreading.

"Castle, what the hell were you thinking, pulling this insane stunt?"

A lump of hot eggs struggled its way down his throat excruciatingly slowly, and Castle sat paralyzed with pain, afraid to swallow. She certainly wasn't wasting any time with sympathetic platitudes. The eggs finally landed in his stomach, so he coughed and cleared his throat, all the while carefully weighing his options. "Word travels at the speed of light in the police world; what have you heard, exactly?"

"A dozen versions of a crazy story straight out of the Wild West. Let's see – the stars of the show are Richard Castle, Tom Demming, and a top-heavy waitress named Rosie." Kate paused and frowned again. "Talk around the watering hole has you in a fist fight inside the Haunt." She leaned over the table, eyes flashing with emotion. "Was there a plan somewhere, cowboy? You like horses, as I recall, so maybe you fell off a really big one and lost your marbles when you hit the dusty ground."

"Whoa, please, my head is spinning! Yes, my horse is an impressive white beast named Passion, and yes, I'm a John Wayne wannabe." Castle took a ragged breath, unsure if he could endure an argument with Kate. It would be a waste of time, actually, because she won every time. His eyes narrowed to her chest. "Why are you wearing my daughter's clothes?"

"Like I said, I was here all night."

So his nose hadn't malfunctioned after all, and incredibly, she had slept with him for at least part of the night. The miracles never ceased, but he couldn't let her get under his skin before they got to the bottom of the mischief. "So, if you know what happened, then I believe there's something you want to tell me, Kate." Castle watched as she fidgeted and stalled for time; how hard could it be to tell the truth? The minutes passed; Castle burped and coughed, Kate scowled.

"Okay, cowboy, you lassoed me. I confess; Tom and I had one last fling when we shouldn't have." She pulled her hair back impatiently. "It was a mistake."

Dejected, Castle fiddled with the fork on the empty plate, "Judging by what Tom said, he didn't think it was a mistake."

"It's ancient history and I want to forget it ever happened. Lord, I can only imagine the crap coming my way at work on Monday."

"What about me? I won't be able to show my face in the precinct until this dies down."

"Maybe that's a good thing. Anyway, if you were so busy tending your own bar, how did you find the time to start a fight?"

"Look Kate, like I said, I don't want to argue." Castle got up carefully and deposited the dishes in the sink. His energy was already running dry and Kate's angry attitude was not helping. Discouraged and miserable, he sunk heavily into the cold chair and closed his eyes. Visions of wild horses galloped through the fields of his mind, the hoof beats tearing apart the delicate neurons of his brain. A storm of a headache was just over the horizon. Kate was speaking again, but he only caught the last of her words.

"Are you listening? I asked, what _horrible_ things did Tom say about me?"

"Ah, so flippant, detective, but I really don't have the energy for a speech."

"Castle," she growled.

He wet his lips and tasted blood again. Kate wanted details, so he would give her details. It would hurt them both and change their relationship forever. "Succulent, perfect tits. Sugar sweet lips." He held her eyes captive across the table and spoke each word succinctly. "Delicious piece of tail. Silky skin; energy of a tigress."

"Tom would never say that."

Castle nervously shredded his napkin into narrow strips while he wrestled with his conscience, but there was no point in holding anything back. "His pals whooped it up while I sat listening from the next table." He rolled the bits of paper napkin into a ball. "My heart ripped in half."

"What else?"

"No concern for my torn heart, I see." He coughed and winced. "Tommy continued on with explicit details on what he wanted to do with your delectable body parts."

"Betrayed."

The word was a shocked whisper. Kate appeared close to the breaking point, and Castle was already there. He idled his way to the kitchen and swallowed a few painkillers. This conversation had his stomach in knots, and he doubted that his lunch would stay down for long. Leaning on the counter for support, he cast one good eye over her flushed face and continued with the bloodletting. "Demming is still bitter that you dumped him."

Kate's eyes flashed in a moment of anger. "You don't know anything about it. Why did you hit him?"

"Well, let's see...it must have been the references to your creamy white thighs and the way you take off..."

"I get it," Kate interrupted, "nothing left to the imagination."

"Tommy passed out your number and declared that you were available for a good time. Are you?"

"How dare you."

It was done, and he'd said too much. The water-glass clunked on the counter and Kate's chair hit the floor with a jarring thud. Castle wanted to take her in his arms and make her forget every other man, but this was not the time. "Forgive me for being blunt, Kate, but you're playing dangerous games. Tom wants you, Josh wants you, and I feel like the fool caught in the middle, the fool who watches and waits for an opening that never comes."

She stood and stared, as if weighing his words. The argument was over, but there was no winner this time, only two battered, remorseful souls. He approached but did not touch her. Kate's hand rose to caress his cheek and Castle knew he was in over his head with this unpredictable woman. Her eyes were dark pools of mystery, shining wet with unshed tears. Castle kissed her hand before she could pull away; she sighed against it and spoke softly, as if tired and defeated. "Rick, you could never be a fool, but why did you want to be a hero?"

Anger created a burst of raw energy and he used it to capture Kate's wrists in a tight grip. She gasped in surprise and struggled, but he pulled her towards him until their bodies touched. His voice was a rough whisper scraping against her cheek. "I'm no hero, sweetheart, I'm just your faithful sidekick, remember?"

"I didn't ask you to take a bullet for me," she breathed the hot words into his ear.

"No man humiliates my woman and gets away with it." Castle winced at the bright stars beginning to burst behind his retinas. He released his grip and pushed her away. "Open your heart to the beautiful truth, Kate. I've seen your horse – she's an exquisite black mare named Spirit, and she's waiting to take you anywhere you want to go."

"I'll go with you and Passion around the world, Rick, but now you need to rest."

"Yes, bed would be good." Castle went down hard as his tired legs filled with lead. Kate's strong arms swooped in to gather him up, and they lurched together in slow motion towards the bedroom. Castle suspected he had reached the end of a dusty road, and the thought of fading away into the dark was strangely comforting. The journey seemed to take forever, but at last he flopped down on his bed, vaguely aware that Kate was pulling off his robe and urging him under the covers. Provoking Tom had been foolish, but his determined heart had set the rules and now his battered body was paying the price. Kate murmured soothing nonsense while fiddling with his pillow, and he wanted to smile and say thank you but his mouth wouldn't let him. At last she stepped back, and he held his breath at the love that was captured in her tear-filled eyes.

"Sleep now, my brave cowboy. I'll keep the home fires burning."

Castle nodded and closed his eyes, and in the silence broken only by his woman's quiet weeping, he heard the shrill ring of a cell phone and her tentative answer. Within moments, a trembling but powerful anger in her voice replaced the tears in her eyes.

"So stupid, Tom, you could have killed him. Yes, I love Rick, and I'm warning you, stay away from us."

The man on the bed closed his eyes and heard nothing more.

The nerve of the creep. Kate tossed the phone on the floor and moved to sit on the edge of Rick's bed. Tom still had a flame burning for her, but how could he be capable of such violence? In hindsight, Tom's black hat and wild horse should have been clues enough, but he had come into town oozing charm and had so easily seduced her with his display of virility. How stupid to have fallen for a villain, and now the thought of Tom's hands on her body made her stomach heave. Kate took a breath and wiped away the useless tears. Her future was here, with the man who had defended her honour and now suffered the wounds of his decision. Kate cast her mind back to those campy spaghetti westerns from television. What had women done back in the old days when their men were wounded and out of action? Those guys got stomped by horses, run over by wagons, bitten by snakes, and well, the list was endless. Their girlfriends and wives must have cooked, baked, and cleaned until their fingers were numb. They rounded up the chickens, applied bandages, spoke words of comfort, and on top of all that, some even changed diapers and read bedtime stories. Kate decided to simplify. This was Manhattan, not some tumbleweed town; in this neighborhood, Mammy's bakery churned out fresh pies, Lee's Chinese cooked up excellent take out, and Frankie the dry cleaner could fix almost anything. Bandages were easy, and as for the bedtime stories, she could think of one or two that might entertain a grown man. The baby diapers, however, were definitely a thought for another day.

So this was where their story began. Kate stretched out against his long, solid body, and with his steady breathing as a backdrop, worked out a simple plan: when Rick woke up, she'd offer him water, kisses and a ride to the hospital. Over the next few weeks, while their man recuperated, the Castle women would band together to guard the homestead against shifty lawman and dusty outlaws. Martha could do the cooking and cleaning, while Alexis, young and strong, would be in charge of chopping wood and tending to the horses. The rifles were Kate's domain, as were Rick's daily sponge baths and bedtime stories. She smiled up at the ceiling. Cowboy Rick would regain his stamina in no time, and they'd saddle up Passion and Spirit and ride across the land in search of a kiss-worthy sunset. Yes, it was a good plan, and Kate reckoned that she could pull it off single-handedly while sitting backwards on a mule. Not that she really wanted to sit on a cranky mule. No, the mule would have to go.

Kate rolled off the bed and stretched, feeling energized and optimistic. The homestead was hers until Martha and Alexis returned. There was plenty of time to tidy up, rustle up supplies, and order tonight's dinner from Lee's Chinese. Kate glanced once more at Rick's relaxed face and turned to glide silently out of the room. Alexis was right, being in love was wonderful.

The end


End file.
